Spells of Starvation
by AngelsofHades
Summary: This is a Hunger Games au with the characters from the Harry Potter series, but it's not going to just be copy-and-paste straight from the book. There is also no magic. Here, Draco is just a 16 year old boy, trying to protect his family from the evil of the world. And if that means stepping in for them, volunteering for them in The Hunger Games, so be it. Slash and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

 **Okay I know I shouldn't have started this one since I'm nowhere near close to finishing the other two… But this idea has just been stuck in my head for** _ **ages…**_ **I even dream about what I should write. I've had dreams of me sitting on the couch and writing up this story. I can't escape it…**

 **Back to the story!**

 **I have played with the ages [and minor appearances] of the characters to suit my own purposes, and some people who were previously not related are now, and many who were, are not. I hope you enjoy! [This is also a No-Magic Alternate Universe].**

 **Disclaimer: I own neither the Harry Potter characters, nor the Hunger Games series.**

It seemed like it would be a nice enough day. The soft rays from the rising sun shone through the slightly frosted window above their heads, there looked to be no clouds in the sky, and as the winter was coming to a close, the cold was retreating with it, bringing warmer days ahead. It was a bit chilly now, in this early morning, but here, lying in bed with his three little kids and a mangy cat, Draco felt a warmth growing from inside him, lighting up his sleep crusted eyes and pulling his mouth into a warm smile.

Of course, they weren't really _his_ kids, he was their big brother, but they might as well have been, seeing as he was the one who had raised them into the fine examples of society that they were. Colin, the eldest of the three, has his back pressed against the wall (with a spare blanket stuffed behind to make sure he didn't get cold from the stones) and his arms around Dennis, the youngest, who had _his_ arms curled around Crookshanks, the blasted cat Draco had gotten him a few years back. He had been planning to cook the thing, but Dennis had been crying and he just couldn't say no to him when he obviously wanted it so badly, even if it did make for another mouth to feed.

Crookshanks was probably the ugliest cat in existence. He was bandy legged, ginger coloured, had dull mustard-yellow eyes, a bottlebrush tail, and his head was sort of… squashed. Like he had run head-first into a wall as a kitten. And man, he was _big._ Crookshanks should _not_ have been that large, with how he lived off the entrails Draco fed him from the animals he hunted. Crookshanks actually was quite handy when it came to hunting, the times that Draco dared to take him. It was one of the reasons that Draco loved him. All of the kids loved Crookshanks, no matter how ugly he was (although Dennis still insisted on saying it was his own "special charm"). Crookshanks was probably the smartest cat that Draco had ever come across, and he never acted nice to someone he didn't deem worthy of attention. In fact, this was another reason why Draco loved the moody thing; it hated Lucius so much that he'd jump into Draco's lap just to get away from him, and Crookshanks only really tolerated him because he fed him entrails and cared for his human.

Colin and Dennis might've been mistaken for identical twins if it wasn't for the obvious age difference, they looked so alike. They, unfortunately, took after Lucius in appearance, but there was still traces of their mother in their eyes and smiles, unlike Draco and Colin's actual younger twin, Luna (by only six minutes), whom both shared a striking resemblance to Narcissa.

Luna currently had her arms wrapped around Dennis, sandwiching Crookshanks between them. Luna's back wasn't left to the cold bite of the morning either, but instead of blankets protecting her from the chill, it was Draco at her back, covering all three of them with his longer arms. Draco didn't mind the fact that his back was always left stiff with the cold in the mornings, because he was their big brother, and he would protect them to his dying breath, be it from ghosts or monsters under the bed, sadistic Death Eaters, or a cold back in the morning.

Draco used to share a bed with their "father" Lucius, but three years ago he had been suffering from a nightmare, and struck out at Draco when he woke him from it, hitting him _hard_ across the face. The kids had been terrified when they saw his black eye and swollen cheek the next day, and Draco was worried that Lucius would hurt one of them, so he moved beds and didn't let any of the kids out of his sight for at least four months, and never allowed them to be in a room alone with Lucius. Even now, it was a rare sight to see Lucius anywhere near Colin, Luna, or Dennis without either Draco or Crookshanks keeping watch from close by.

The only time they were left undefended was during the Reaping, because he had to go into his position within his age group. He was especially worried this year, because the twins had turned twelve this year, meaning it was their first Reaping, and Dennis would have to stand alone with him.

Draco attempted to ignore the feeling in his gut that said something terrible was about to happen, and hold onto the happy feeling the being with the kids brought him. It was useless. Draco couldn't escape the coming day, nor could he escape his own feelings.

And he could definitely feel he was going to be a tribute for the Games this year. His name was entered too many times. There was the required five slips of paper with the name _Draco Malfoy_ scrawled onto them in his own script, but he had a family to feed, filled with growing kids. They needed a lot of Tesserae, so his named was in _a lot_ of times. Too many times. He had no choice. Every single extra named in that lottery was needed to keep their family afloat. He wouldn't allow the kids to go hungry, and he had to feed their useless excuse for a father. As soon as Draco reached the age of eighteen, he would get them out. He didn't care where they went, hell maybe Blaise would take them in, but he had to get them away from that man.

But that would never happen if he was Reaped.

He racked his mind, making sure he had taught his wonderful siblings everything they needed to know to survive. They would never hunt, he knew. They were all too kind to ever think of hurting anything. But the twins had their goat, Hedwig, and they made good money off her milk and cheese, and Dennis was the best at remembering which plants were best for healing specific ailments, even at his tender age of ten, so they could still make money off the family apothecary.

Draco smiled as he remembered all the injured animals the kids had taken in over the years and the many sick townspeople they'd all cared for. All being himself, the twins and little Dennis. But not Lucius. Never Lucius. Even if he had improved a little over the years, Draco would never forgive him for abandoning them. _Never._

Lucius had left them when they had needed him the most, right after their mum died. Draco was only eleven then, Luna and Colin seven, and Dennis had only just reached five years of age. If Draco hadn't manned up and taken care of them, they all would have died. And if Draco hadn't had a bit of help, he never would've manned up.

Narcissa Malfoy had met her end on a seemingly ordinary afternoon in District 12, walking home after a successful hunt, and stopped off at Knockturn (the illegal black market of District 12) when a mine underneath her exploded. The family had begun to starve not months after that. Without Narcissa, there was no food or supplies coming in, since Lucius fad fallen into a deep depression and refused to move from his room to run the apothecary, no matter how much they begged.

Draco had given up on him within days; he knew the man who had once loved them with all of his heart was never coming back, and the meagre food that the Ministry gave to them for compensation wasn't nearly enough to feed so many mouths for long.

Draco wasn't yet old enough to sign up for the Tesserae, not for two months, and it was obvious that they weren't going to last that long. Draco had gone to Diagon (the legal market of District 12) in hoped of selling their baby clothes but no one had looked at him twice. He'd even gone to Knockturn in his desperation, but none of them were willing to buy anything he had for more than a few useless trinkets.

There was no way he was going to go home to the sad, starving faces of his sister and brothers empty handed; so he stumbled around the empty streets of the District, looking for anything edible he could bring to them. Unfortunately, it had begun to rain and Draco tripped on a loose cobblestone, falling into a puddle and losing the precious baby clothes to the rain, to be trampled underfoot. He left them there, as they were now ruined and his frail body was struggling to get up on its own- he didn't think he'd be able to get back up holding them.

He moved to the alleys behind the shops, hoping there would be something in the bins, after all, rotten food was better than no food at all. Draco was devastated to find the bins freshly emptied. There was a Dirigible Plum tree growing at the back of crazy man Xenophilius' stationery shop, but Draco knew better than to steal. Stealing in District 12 was punishable by death, and Draco refused to leave his family that way- as nothing more than a dirty thief.

Exhausted, soaking and shivering, a starving boy abandoned hope, leaning against a lonely tree in an alleyway, cradling his pounding head in nearly skeletal hands, dull blond fringe like a veil hanging low over his face, concealing him from the world.

It was in this position that another young boy, just a bit older than Draco himself, saw the boy he'd been crushing on for a few years at his absolute lowest. This hurt said other boy, and he resolved to help Draco- make him better again.

Draco's eyes snapped up when he heard the frustrated yelling of a woman, the smack of something flat onto skin, and a small cry of pain coming from the bakery. Then a boy around his age with a wild mop of black hair came staggering out of the bakery's door with some slightly burnt loaves in his hands. He could still hear the woman shrieking about just throwing the loaves out now that they were ruined and Draco prepared himself to scoop them out of the dirty bin as soon as the boy disappeared again.

He was surprised to find said boy kneeling in front of him in the next moment, meeting Draco's pale silvery eyes with his own stunning emerald orbs.

Draco received a soft smile from the boy, who carefully introduced himself as Harry, as if Draco were some wounded animal that needed to be treated like glass. The boy- Harry- helped Draco to his feet, and with another kind, understanding smile, gave Draco the bread rolls before being called back to the bakery by that same loud woman who Draco assumed gave him that swiftly swelling welt on his cheek.

As Draco stood there, stunned in the rain by this wonderful boy, holding enough bread to save his family's lives, his eyes welled up with tears, and for the first time since his mum's death, he cried. Sobbed actually, but whatever.

He covered the bread with his flimsy jacket with the hopes of protecting it from the worst of the rain, before starting the trek home. As he ran, he noticed a small plant growing from around the base of the Dirigible Plum. Draco recognised it as May's Plume. May's Plume was _edible_. This had been drilled into his head by his father when he was much younger and they were all much happier. Lucius had taught him many things while Narcissa was still alive, about edible and healing plants; Lucius had come from the richer part of District 12 to be with the huntress Narcissa in the Seam, who had taught Draco hunting and survival skills.

Draco never forgot Harry, the baker's boy, the boy with the bread, who had saved the lives of the most important people in the world to him. And Lucius. Draco- no matter how much he had wished against it- hadn't let him starve, because they had to pretend that Lucius was a good father so the social services wouldn't split them all up.

Now, at the age of sixteen, Draco still watched over Harry, And if Draco's heart happened to race every time he saw those bright emerald eyes, or longed for that soft smile to be directed towards him again, and _only him,_ well, that's no one else's business.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

 **Hoped you liked the first chapter, there's really not much to say except: enjoy!**

 **Also, I had no idea what Blaise's mother's name is, so I just used Gale's from the book.**

 **Warning: Mild gore and naughty language from the boys**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing**

Draco sighed as he unwound from his kids and slowly eased himself from the bed, chuckling quietly when Luna- still asleep- reached an arm behind her, seeking for his warmth. He leant forward and places a gentle kiss on all of their foreheads, before tucking the blanket in behind her and nudging her arm over onto Dennis.

Lucius' door was closed, so Draco assumed that he was still asleep. Draco had taught him by now no to go near the kids when he wasn't there, and his kids always listened to him, so he knew they wouldn't seek interaction from Lucius in his absence. It was just too dangerous and they knew that. They also knew that Draco was much better for them than Lucius had ever, or would ever be.

Draco smiled as he caught sight of an upturned wooden bowl on the counter, lifting it to reveal a piece of fresh goat's cheese and a lush branch of blueberries from the Meadow, kept cool by the natural chill of the night and the frosted water surrounding the wrapped goodies. He'd make sure to bring them back some nice treats later.

Draco slipped into his usual hunting clothes and the soft leather hunting boots that had been a present from his mum to Lucius when they were a new couple that Lucius had never worn. Draco picked up his satchel- carefully placing his gifts inside- and headed out, towards the fence.

District 12 was completely surrounded by an electric fence, to keep wild animals out and starving people in. But that wasn't entirely true. The fence was supposed to be pumping 10 000 volts of pure electricity twenty four hours, seven days a week. The fence was only ever on for a few hours per day, because the Death Eaters in charge of District 12 could clearly see what was happening to the people, so they took pity and allowed the few hunters that were, to go out into the forest and bring home some food for their families. The Death Eaters actually made pretty good customers, they were some of Draco's best.

The Malfoy home was very close to the fence, and there were multiple gaps along the fence if you knew where to look, one nearly exactly halfway between Draco's house and his best friend's- Blaise Zabini. Blaise was also the man of his family, being the one to provide and care for his younger brother, Theo, and his mother, Hazelle. His father, well, Theo's father, had died in the same explosion that killed Narcissa Malfoy, although he had been _inside_ the mine, instead of above.

Blaise was actually the only person in the whole of District 12 with dark skin; his real father had been a Death Eater, who had raped his mother. That Death Eater had died only a week after the incident, funnily enough. He happened to choke to death while in Knockturn, after a gorgeous blonde haired waitress had handed him his usual soup. No one there commented about the "extra flavour" that she had put in beforehand, or the fact that there weren't actually waitresses at Knockturn.

It was a wonder that Hazelle hadn't tried to have Blaise removed, as any other woman would have. Hazelle Zabini, however, believed that Blaise wouldn't turn out to be a bad man, just because his father was an evil. And she was right. Blaise had grown to be a great young man, smart and kind, who protected his family and stayed true to his friends. Well, _friends_ was a bit of an exaggeration. He only had Draco and their friend Hermione, but Draco couldn't talk, because it was the same for him.

Blaise and Draco had met when they were children, on play dates with their mothers, whom had been best friends, before the tragic event that caused the deaths of their loved ones. They had lost contact after that, and only met again after Draco had turned twelve, and started to wander further into the woods to hunt for food. He had stumbled across a snare with a large juicy rabbit caught up in it, and was inspecting it to see how it worked, when Blaise had come across him.

They had very nearly killed each other, Blaise with an arrow pointed directly at Draco's chest, and one sharp throwing knife waiting in Draco's hand, the other lodged in a tree, mere centimetres from Blaise's head.

Of course this situation had quickly turned hilarious once they recognised one another, with Blaise cracking first, before Draco actually took in what his "attacker" looked like, and burst out laughing. They've been inseparable ever since. They hunt together, relax together, go to school together, look after the kids together, and fawn over boys together. Well, Draco only ever gushed about the one boy, but, it's the same thing really.

It had been slightly awkward for about six seconds when they both found out that the other was also attracted to the same sex, before once again, the situation was hilarious, for all they knew, the only two gay boys in the whole of District 12 were in absolutely no way attracted to each other.

They had agreed to go for a hunt this morning every year, because this was about the time when stationery supplies ran low for school, and it helped take their minds off the events that were to occur.

Draco waited for a few seconds by the fence, checking for anyone nearby and to make sure that the fence wasn't live, and when the coast was clear, slipped through his usual spot, making his way towards his weapon stash immediately. Draco had weapon stashes all over the forest, of course, but his best knives were closest to home. These were the knives that he'd made with his mum, so they were the ones he preferred. Of course, Draco kept another knife with him at all times, even in the District, which was _highly_ illegal. The knife was the only thing they had managed to save from Narcissa's body after the explosion, so the handle was blackened in areas and the blade was a little warped, but Draco loved it all the same. It was kept on his left forearm, his throwing arm, in a holster he had made himself out of old leather strips, and always hidden by his long sleeves.

After Draco had belted on his throwing knives, he made his way to the area that he usually met Blaise in for their hunts, a small hill, about forty metres from the fence. It was out of sight and gave a great view of the surrounding woods, and the sunrise, if they woke early enough.

About thirty metres in, Draco heard the familiar rustle of leaves, which meant that there was prey nearby. Draco was in luck. Not ten metres to the left stood a stag, munching on its meal, completely unaware of Draco's presence. It was the first deer Draco had seen all year, and it was a great find. It was huge, big enough that it would take both Draco and Blaise to carry it.

Quietly, Draco unsheathed a throwing knife and readied himself. A loud birdcall to his right let him know that Blaise had caught up and was closing in on his position. When they first became hunting partners, the boys had thought it imperative to have a special code between themselves, ranging from bird calls to wolf howls. The noise was natural enough to not alarm the buck, while Draco knew not to react to the slight rustle behind him. Draco let out a whistle of a different pitch that told Blaise to wait where he was. A sharp click was his response.

Draco took a deep breath, and released it, throwing the knife in time with the exhale. The buck went down with minimal struggle, the knife piercing it straight through the eye and into the brain. Draco went to move forward and collect his kill, when Blaise let out a yelping noise- asking for backup.

Draco glided through the woods silently towards Blaise, arming himself with his other knife. Blaise was standing stock still a few metres ahead, an arrow knocked and ready to fire. Blaise stood so still, and his clothes were all green, so it was no wonder the prey Blaise was spying hadn't seen him. It was at these times that Draco was envious of Blaise's dark hair and skin, his own pallor, almost too pale with hair too bright- which was very hard to camouflage in these woods. The only time he had the advantage was during the cold winter months, when the whole forest was covered in a thick layer of snow and finding anything was a miracle.

Moving forward slowly, Draco came to rest crouching at Blaise's feet and saw the prey Blaise had in his sights. There were two medium sized doe in the clearing they were on the edge of, grazing close together. Draco saw Blaise's right foot twitch in his peripheral vision, and immediately aimed his knife for the doe on the left. A split second later the doe were down. An arrow and a knife were sticking out from the cavities where an eye used to be, piercing their brains the same way that Draco had just taken down the buck.

Draco stood, grinning, and was pulled into a short greeting hug from Blaise. He jumped a little in his excitement, thinking of the buck he'd left behind. They each had an entire doe for their families, and an entire stag to trade with.

"Well, someone's happy today. What's happened? Did Potter propose to you or something?" Blaise's deep, smooth voice was filled with humour and Draco punched him in the arm. Hard. Blaise responded with an overly cute whining noise that was just utterly disgusting coming from him.

"Honestly, I don't even understand how I put up with you sometimes, you moron. And no, dickhead, I'm just happy because we've got so much today. You won't believe what I just took down. A huge stag, just a couple of metres that-a-way." Draco pointed in the general direction of the buck he'd taken down as they pulled their weapons from the doe and hauled them up onto their backs. Blaise made another whining noise when Draco wiped his knife off on his friend before sheathing it and leading the way to his kill.

When they reached the other clearing, Blaise let out an admiring whistle and dropped his doe none-too-gently on a patch of clear ground. Draco followed suit and watched smugly as Blaise moved towards the buck. Draco removed his knife as Blaise knelt and inspected it, making soft sounds of appraisal as he poked around, mostly to annoy Draco.

"This is great and all Drake, but how the hell are we supposed to get this big guy across the fence and to Knockturn?"

Shit.

Draco flushed red. Blaise laughed. Draco stumbled over his words and his feet. Blaise laughed some more. Blaise yelped as he was punched. Draco laughed as Blaise yelled something about child abuse.

Blaise pulled out a loaf of bread, still warm, as he backed away from the kills and sat himself down on a nearby ledge, waving it around as a peace offering. Draco joined him and pulled out their goat's cheese and blueberries. Blaise smiled and thanked the kids for their contribution aloud, pulling an amused smile from Draco's mouth as he stripped the branch from its burden. Blaise spread the cheese over the sliced bread and handed some to Draco. They sat in content silence for a few moments, enjoying their breakfast and ignoring the carcasses lying just out of sight. As Draco chewed on the bread that must have cost Blaise at least three squirrels, he had an idea.

"Blaise get up. C'mon! Up, up, up! Let's get these deer to the fence. Blaise just get the fuck up. Now. Good. We're going to take the deer to the fence, I'll head in to the bakery (stop looking at me like that you pig) and borrow their cart, so we can get the doe home. We'll probably have to trade them half of the stag, but we'll still have enough for Knockturn." Blaise nodded before they heaved the doe up onto their backs and stooped down to lift the buck between them. It really was heavy, so it took a while, but they eventually reached the edge of the woods and they dropped their loads to the ground. They stashed their weapons in a hollowed out tree and Blaise sat down next to the buck, pulling out a knife.

"I'll stay here and start gutting the buck. You hurry off to the bakery, but don't get too disappointed if your boy isn't there, okay? I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Put the knife down!" Blaise sniggered as Draco slapped him over the head lightly and moved to the fence, checking once more for people or power before slipping through and heading into town.

The bakery was… cute, for lack of a better word. It wasn't too small, but it wasn't by any means large, and it was warm; both in temperature and decorations. There were some really pretty cakes out front on display (which the kids always dragged him over to gawk at whenever they were in town), and there was a lovely smell wafting in from the back. Draco smiled politely at Petunia when he walked in from the back of the shop. And _no,_ he wasn't disappointed that it wasn't Harry. He _wasn't_.

Petunia was not a pretty woman. She was tall and thin, but not in an attractive way, with pale eyes and hair, and nearly twice the normal amount of neck. She had a long face that looked a bit like the horses Draco had seen in the Ministry provided school books, and even her teeth resembled that of the animal. Her husband and son, Vernon and Dudley Dursley, were nearly the complete opposite. By some strange genetics, they were both morbidly fat, even if it was impossible for them to be eating that much more than anyone else in the District. Petunia sneered as she caught sight of him.

"Malfoy. Wasn't that Zabini boy in here earlier? What do you want?" Draco was of a firm belief that the entire Dursley family was in need of a lesson in proper etiquette. None of them had any manners at all. It was a shock that Harry had turned out to be such a fine bloke, when you realised he had to live with these people every day. Well Draco was nothing if not proud of the way that his mother had raised him, so he was not going to stoop to her level of rude behaviour.

"Good morning Mrs Dursley. I am in fact here to ask for a deal. Blaise and I have been doing some hunting and we picked up a bit more than we can carry. I'll be willing to trade you the better half of a stag, if you might lend me your cart for a while, please." Draco knew she would say yes. She was obviously getting the better end of the deal, and the Dursley family were nothing if not greedy, so none of them would ever turn down some good meat, and everyone knew that Blaise and Draco brought only the best.

Blaise had even mentioned during their breakfast that Petunia had still made him pay three squirrels for the loaf of bread, even though most other people gave discounts on Reaping days to those who were likely to be entered. Draco guessed it just highlighted her entire family's irrational hatred of Blaise. Draco couldn't understand for the life of him why these people- if you could call them that- were racist to the only black person in the entire District. They were all completely bonkers.

Draco sent Petunia a shallow smile when she nodded, and followed her past the counter and into the back. He didn't expect any small talk from her, so was not surprised when she ignored his presence, and relished in the silence. He wondered if Harry was awake yet, or trying to sleep the day away. Draco stopped his train of thought before he could start thinking about morning Harry, or waking up with Harry, or kissing Harry awake…. dammit.

Draco sighed and payed more attention to where they were going. Petunia led him through the back and Draco lifted the ends of his mouth into a courteous smile at Vernon, who was stacking some bread, and although he looked quite annoyed at his presence, one look from Petunia quelled his anger. Petunia opened a door to the back and didn't wait for him or hold the door; he rushed forward and scowled at her back.

Draco realised that this must be where they live, and payed close attention. He passed by a staircase with a cupboard in it, and didn't pay notice to the many locks on the door until he heard soft breathing coming from inside. His insides froze.

The very thought that anybody, especially _Harry,_ was living in those conditions made his blood boil and stomach churn. He refused to say anything as he grit his teeth and continued on, knowing that nothing he could say or do would help at all. Draco swallowed back bile and sped up, through the back door, closing the screen door behind him. Petunia pointed to the cart and Draco nodded, explaining to her that he'd bring it back soon with the promised goods inside.

As he was about to wheel the cart around the corner, he heard Petunia yelling something, so he turned back, only to lock eyes with a startled Harry, who was stumbling out from underneath the stairs. Both teens froze, unsure of what to do net, but neither wanted to break eye contact. Draco watched as Harry realised who he was looking at and what he must look like, but just as he was about to turn away, Draco shot him a little reassuring smile. Harry's gorgeous eyes widened even more, and Draco nearly sighed at the lovely reappearance of his favourite colour.

Draco contemplated going back inside to ask for assistance so he could steal Harry away, but he knew as soon as he got anywhere near the larger boy he'd become a blushing, stuttering mess. So instead of embarrassing himself, he just smirked and sent a wink, while motioning zipping his lips with his hand. Harry jerked back a little and closed his eyes, shaking his head. Draco took that time to rush around the corner, so that when Harry opened his eyes, he would doubt what he saw.

Draco made his way back to the fence, observing how much higher the sun had risen in the light morning sky during his absence. He estimated that it was around nine 'o' clock. He caught sight of Blaise hovering in the undergrowth, and waved at him. Blaise stood and hauled the gutted buck to the fence, passing it under to Draco, who pulled the body into the cart, and turned back for Blaise's doe, which followed the buck. Blaise then gave him the second doe, which was not gutted, as Blaise knew that Draco like to save that for Crookshanks. Draco backed away a little as Blaise slid under the fence himself, and was glad he had, for in the next moment, a wild cat that had been stalking him along the fence line launched itself over the fence from an overhanging branch, and straight at Blaise. It was dead before it even touched the ground, Draco's mother's knife lodged deep in its throat. Blaise rolled out of the way so the cat landed in a heap in the dust.

Draco kicked a rock towards it to make sure it was dead before grabbing it by the scruff of its neck, pulling out his blade and wiping the blood off on the cat's coat. He chucked the cat in the cart with the deer and sheathed his knife. Blaise huffed out a laugh and clapped Draco on the shoulder. They could trade the cat too. Blaise helped Draco pull the protective tarp over the cart and then pushed off. First stop, the Zabini's.

 **And that's the end of chapter two! Please leave a review if you liked [or didn't like] anything, and if it's the latter, I'll try and explain to you why I did what I did. If it's about the Blaise situation, don't even bother. I've always hated love triangles, and I have plans for Blaise later anyway.**

 **See you next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

 **Warning: There is some bad language in here**

 **Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own nothing**

Draco smiled at the little birds that twittered around his head as he made his way back to the bakery with their cart, the only living creatures willing to make an appearance in town on this dreary day. Draco thought of the look he had shared with Harry earlier this morning, then shook it out of his mind. It wouldn't do for him to be distracted with his fantasies when he met with _any_ member of the baker's family.

He brought the cart back around the back of the bakery and left it where Petunia had shown it to him, before walking forward, towards the back door. He rapped his knuckles firmly on the door frame and waited for someone to show up. His breath caught in his throat as he came eye-to-eye with Harry through the screen door. Well, eye-to-chin, but whatever. Goddamn malnutrition.

Harry looked just as shocked as his arm moved to open the door quickly, before a decidedly nervous look stole across his (handsome) face. Draco shuffled back a little and shot him a small smile as the door swung open with a loud creak. Draco spoke before whatever words were going to leave Harry's mouth crossed his lips. He didn't want Harry to feel uncomfortable about what had occurred this morning so he decided to pretend it never happened and continue on. Draco chose to ignore the snarky voice in the back of his head (which sounded suspiciously like Blaise) droll on about the fact that Draco couldn't allow Harry to speak or he would get distracted by his velvety voice.

"Good morning Potter. I just wanted to inform you that I've brought back the cart I borrowed from your aunt this morning, and the stag has already been gutted and is waiting inside." It was a strange and rare thing in District 12 to find orphaned children taken in by anyone, even family, as they were usually left to die alone by themselves without the support of a family, or become tough and bitter, fighting the world, day by torturous day. Harry Potter had been an exception to the rule, but only because of the bond that his mother had shared with his Aunt's family after Lily Potter had taken a bullet for their son, literally.

James had been killed many years ago in a major structural collapse in the mine he'd been working in, which had forced Lily, with her darling month old son, to move in with her sister to deal with the grief. Only two years after that there had been a minor riot in the District and the Dursley family, with the two remaining Potters, had been caught in the middle. They'd been in Diagon when the revolt took place, and the Death Eaters began shooting randomly into the crowd. During the stampede, Petunia had been knocked about some and began yelling at the people around her to be more careful. This drew the attention of the nearest Death Eater, whom promptly took aim and fired, straight at her. Lily had seen this and lunged forward, throwing herself over her older sister and their children, before taking the bullet right in the back, right where Dudley had fallen against Petunia's chest.

Lily's death had been a slow one, but not painful, not with the assistance of Narcissa. She'd lasted only a few hours, only enough to beg Petunia to look after her precious boy (which she had grudgingly agreed to do, if only to repay the life-debt she owed) before she had faded. Petunia had not cared for Harry by any means, but her twisted family loyalty had made her keep her promise to Lily; even if her definition of 'looking after' was keeping him locked up in a cupboard and forcing him to do all the strenuous manual labour that her husband and son refused to do.

Harry physically wasn't as bad off as Draco; having a steady intake of food from Petunia, if only to keep Harry healthy enough to work, while Draco had been forced to go many times without food to feed the youngsters. The physical differences came mostly from their parents, Harry's physique coming from the Potters, who had been quite tall, James had apparently also been rather muscular from the hard work in the mines and Lily- who's beauty had rivalled Draco's own mother- was nicely toned from her dedication to the bakery, whereas Narcissa, whom Draco had inherited his build from, had been quite small and petite. Lucius had never done a hard day's work in his life before meeting Narcissa, and neither had his parent, so nothing noticeable in the children's physique came from him.

Draco was abruptly shaken out of his daydreaming when Harry murmured his thanks and passed Draco in the doorway to get the stag from the cart. Draco turned to assist him, because even half a stag was too heavy for Draco to carry on his own, but found his mouth turn dry instead, at the show of strength Harry performed by just hauling the thing onto one broad shoulder, showing no strain at all.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco when the blond didn't move out of the way of the door immediately. Draco's face flushed red and he stammered out an apology before rushing off and throwing a soft goodbye over his shoulder, unaware of Harry's reaction to seeing Draco's blush. Harry grumbled at himself as he hauled the buck back onto his shoulder where it had slipped from his loose hands and turned back to the house and his repulsive relatives.

…

Draco pulled his spoils out of the satchel and onto the dining table to put away after the Reaping. He only had half an hour before they all had to gather in the town square so he headed straight to their wash room and slipped into the full tub that Luna must've drawn for him. His mind wandered to what he'd make for the kids tonight after it was all over and every family went back to their normal routines. Every family except for the two that would undoubtedly shut themselves away inside their homes as they grieved for their lost child. Because this was District 12, and no one ever came back. Even if they won, which was _extremely_ unlikely, they would never be the same child who left. The District only had one living Victor anyway, a surly man by the name of Severus Snape who had won his games in the second Quarter Quell, in which double the amount of tributes were chosen. Snape had won by not only outsmarting all 47 of the other tributes, but the Gamemakers as well, using the force field that surrounded the 'Poison Paradise' to kill the tribute from District 1 that had come for him in the end.

Unfortunately, this had turned out to be the wrong decision, because when Snape had returned home to the District, it was to find both his parents, Tobias and Eileen, his brother, Evan, and his boyfriend, Regulus, had died in an 'accident' that was no doubt orchestrated by the Ministry. It was this incident, along with the traumatic memories from the Games themselves, that the District believe threw him into his self-destructive spiral of despair, which he chose to drown out with copious amounts of alcohol. Draco knew that the constant deaths of every child he'd had to mentor after that didn't help one bit.

The sound of the children rushing about outside the door had Draco finishing his bath and drying himself off with his worn out towel. He wrapped said towel around his waist and made his way out of the wash room to their bedroom, finding his Reaping clothes already set out on the bed. The neatness in the way the clothes were placed let him know it was Colin who had chosen the getup. It was simple, but the nicest clothes they had left for him, having sold all of Lucius' nice clothes early into their poverty. Draco pulled on the black slacks and buttoned up his blue dress shirt while he slipped on his black loafers and grabbed the ebony tie hanging from the bedpost.

He headed out of the room to be greeted with the adorable picture of all the children working on fixing the others up; Luna was combing her fingers through Dennis' hair to help it find some sort of order, while Colin braided Luna's long locks and Dennis fixed Colin's collar around his bowtie. Draco smiled as he moved forward to smooth down the little tufts of hair poking up from Colin's own usually immaculately combed style. He snickered when Dennis made an offhand comment of how the stray hairs so resembled Hedwig's own little horns; this naturally led to Draco messing with the oldest twin in checking for a beard to match. Draco was glad that he'd brightened their days a little when he heard their soft giggles echoing through the house.

His mood was thoroughly dampened when he saw Lucius enter the room; it was bad enough that today was the day of the Reaping, but the world expected Draco to leave the youngest of the brood with that pathetic leech without saying a word about it? Hell no.

Lucius flinched when their eyes met, averting his eyes from the heavy glare directed at him from his eldest son. He dithered in the doorway for a moment before moving to the kitchen. Draco smiled once more at the kids as they put their shoes on before joining him. When he entered the kitchen he paid Lucius no mind, preferring to start putting the things he brought away, just to make sure Lucius didn't get his hands on any of them. When the final piece was stored away in the overhead cupboard he turned to Lucius and continued to glare at him for a long moment. When it seemed that Lucius might be about to say something, Draco spoke up.

"If anything, and I mean _anything_ , happens to Dennis while he's with you, I will make you wish that I'd never been born. You're still useful to us alive, but don't mistake that as us wanting you here. As soon as I'm old enough I'm getting us all out of here, and you can't do a thing to stop me, or you might find yourself having an _unfortunate accident_. Stay away from my kids and you won't be harmed. This is your only warning Lucius. _Stay. Away._ " Lucius had completely dropped his head through the speech, and he only retreated further and further into himself as Draco continued, but Draco couldn't seem to find it within himself to feel bad at all. The bastard deserved it.

Feeling as if his message had been received clearly, he nodded and walked back into the other room, petting Crookshanks as he passed before joining the kids in the doorway. It was time to go.

…

Draco drummed his fingers against his leg nervously when he was finally in his position in the crowd. He hated being put in place like this. It made him feel like they were sheep, being herded into position. He'd escorted the twins to their places after the blood was taken and they were now waiting for the Reaping to begin. The twins had been very nervous as well. Especially Luna, and that didn't bode well.

Draco had always known that there was just something _more_ about Luna. She always seemed to know things that others didn't. He wouldn't say she was wise, she was only a child after all, but it did seem a bit prophetic. She just knew some things. And if she was this nervous, then something bad was bound to happen. Draco just didn't know how bad it could be.

He wished he could see them to check up on them and reassure them, but they were twelve, which meant their group was at the back of the crowd. Draco was right in the middle, as the older you were, the closer you were to the front, and the oldest people eligible for the Reaping were eighteen. The family members had to line up around the perimeter of the pens, so he couldn't see Dennis either. Draco grew annoyed at the sound of the bet takers moving through the crowds, asking which children were the most likely of being taken from their family. He scowled as he heard his name come up quite a few times. He didn't want the kids to hear that he could be taken away.

The space got tighter and tighter as more people piled into the square, giving it a sort of claustrophobic feel. The square was big, yes, but not quite big enough to fit the entire population comfortably, so some of the latecomers were forced to stand in the adjacent streets, where they would be able to watch the entire event on screens where it's televised live throughout the Districts.

Draco observed the tense sixteen year old around him and shared acknowledging nods with some. He was able to relax when Blaise appeared at his side, having just left Theo with the twins in their age group. They briefly gripped hands and nod at each other before watching the stage. They had made an agreement years ago that if one got Reaped the other couldn't volunteer, no matter the circumstances, because the kids had to be looked after.

Draco was barely tall enough to see over the heads of the older kids, but he knew that there were three chairs visible on the stage ahead (set up in front of the Hogsmeade building), a podium, and two large glass balls on either side of the stage. One holds the girls names and the other belongs to the boys. A wave of nausea washed over Draco as he recalled how many of those slips of paper had _his_ name on them. He shook himself out of it as the mayor, Hermione's father, walked onto the stage with the District's escort, Bartemius Crouch Jr. They fill two of the onstage seats and murmur unhappily about the third empty seat that should hold one Severus Snape. Bartemius- or Barty, as he preferred to be called- was dressed in a ghastly combination of a fluorescent orange suit and shirt, accompanied with shocking blue hair, matching his tie.

Everyone in the crowd stiffened as the clock chimes two 'o' clock; the ringing announcing to the people that the Reaping was about to begin. Mayor Granger stepped up to the podium and began the same boring story that he does every year, about the history of Hogwarts, the "great country that rose from the ashes of a time long past", about the disasters that the country went through and faced to "become the great place it is today", the Ministry "rising above all others", and so on and so forth. He speaks of the Dark Days, of the rebellion of the people and the subsequent destruction of District 13 and defeat of all the other twelve. The origin of the Treaty of Treason and the beginning of the Hunger Games. He spoke of the greatness of the Ministry and how the Districts must pay for the loss of the peace that the Ministry had given them by making them compete against each other in this gruesome way.

Mayor Granger then proceeded to read out the long list of previous District 12 Victors. Notice the sarcasm. It's in this moment that Severus Snape decides is a good time to appear, drunkenly wandering onto the stage and making a big show- and fool- of himself sitting in the last empty chair, oblivious to the glare of complete disgust that Barty shoots at him as he reaches a hand out in what might've been a slap on the shoulder if he hadn't completely missed. Mayor Granger is obviously distressed by his appearance; as he should be. This entire thing is being broadcast, so District 12 will become the laughing stock of Hogwarts once again. He attempted to cover the incident up by introducing Barty Crouch Jr.

Barty, bubbly as ever, jumps up at his name and _prances_ to the podium. Draco could safely confirm that the entire District wonders about his sanity –or lack of. He grinned at the crowd (followed by that strange flicking thing he does with his tongue) and waved joyfully. No matter how insane the man is, Draco (and the rest of the district) found it hard to hate him. He is a bit of a ditzy bimbo, but he's very friendly and he seems to understand that the Games aren't that exactly; a game. He acts the way that the Ministry expects him to- it is his job after all- but you can always see the guilt and sympathy in his eyes as he sends their children to death. Everyone knows he tries to make it as painless as he can, even if that's never very much.

"Hello everyone! It's a nice day today, don't you think?! Lovely weather for a gathering, even if we gather here today for a reason that isn't too pleasant. Now I wish that the odds will be _ever_ in your favour! Let's begin with the girls, who are all looking lovely today, if I might say so!" The District held their breath as Barty danced across the stage, rifled his hand around in the bowl for a second, then pulled out one slip and skipped back to the podium. Barty took a moment to read the name and look through the crowd, as if he can tell whose name it is that he's about to call out, before he took a deep breath and spoke.

"And the female tribute for District 12 is… Luna Malfoy!"

 **Cliff-hanger here I suppose. I just thought this might be a good time to stop this chapter, but don't fear, I should have the next chapter up really soon, as I just kind of cut this one off, so there's enough to start the next one.**

 **Review if you liked it [or not] and make sure you read the first two chapters if you've just gone straight to this one because some things might not make sense…**

 **Thanks for reading and I'll see you next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

 **So this chapter should come fairly quickly (meaning less than four months) after the third… so… don't hate me? I know that was a bit of a cliff-hanger, but I have to raise the tension somehow, you know?**

 **Anyway, here it is! Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer and Warning: I own nothing, there will be some close quoting & there will be bad language present in this chapter**

" _And the female tribute for District 12 is… Luna Malfoy!"_

Draco couldn't breathe.

The crowd around him had gone deadly silent. No child cried, no better buzzed, even the wind itself was silently rolling through the crowd, almost mournfully. No one ever liked it when a young child was chosen as a tribute. Especially a well-known, well loved, kind girl like Luna.

Draco was frozen in a state of shock, barely feeling Blaise's hand on his arm to stop him from falling. It was impossible. She was only entered once! One name in thousands! The odds were completely in her favour! He had forbidden either of the twins from taking any tesserae. There was no way…

He was abruptly jolted out of his stupor when he heard Colin scream and saw the Death Eaters trying to take Luna from her twin's tight grasp. Draco jerked forward, tearing his arm away from Blaise and pushing his way through the crowd until he made it to the centre space where they were trying to get Luna onstage, two Death Eaters holding a hysterical Colin back.

"Luna!" Draco's shout rang out as he rushed forward and snatched Luna from the Death Eaters and shielded her behind him, pushing her into the arms of Blaise (already holding the still sobbing Colin), who had followed him to the kids.

Draco eyed the orange clad man onstage, squared his thin shoulders and took a deep breath.

"I volunteer. I volunteer in place of the female tribute of District 12." He could practically taste the disbelief that wafted through the air. No one volunteers in District 12. All people who lived there only cared about surviving day by day. Draco was sending himself off to slaughter, saying that his family meant more to him than his own life.

"Oh! A volunteer! I'm assuming you're related to young Miss Luna? You won't be able to volunteer if you're not, dear." Draco nearly let out a slightly hysterical laugh at the "are you kidding me?" faces that the entire District pulled. Not only do they know the whole family, from Narcissa and Draco's trades to the twin's goat cheese and the family apothecary, both the twins behind him and the younger boy struggling from the limp arms of the man they used to call father in the crowd looked nearly identical to Draco. Add to the fact that they were the only family in the Seam with blond hair and silver eyes, it was undeniable that they were related. Draco nodded anyway.

"I am. I'm her oldest brother: Draco Malfoy, 16 years of age." The words were tight in his throat, but managed to weasel themselves out of his mouth, barely heard through the thick emotions rampaging beneath his skin.

Barty smiled, satisfied with the answer, and beckoned Draco to join him on the stage. Draco struggled lightly against the three children hanging onto him desperately and fought back tears at their heart wrenching cries. He kneeled down and pulled the three into his chest, hugging them tightly before passing them off to Blaise, who nodded at him. They'd talk again in a few minutes in Hogsmeade building, where the tributes were taken to say the last goodbyes to their families. Draco attempted to reconstruct his cold, uncaring mask by standing tall and faking confidence, but he knew he was still shaking like a leaf too much to look it. He contented himself by walking to the stage with as much of the grace of the hunter he was that he could muster.

Draco stood with his hands clasped behind his back next to Barty, who turned back to the crowd and smiled brightly. Draco locked eyes with Lucius- who had watched the proceedings with ever growing sorrow- before looking towards his crying siblings, gripping onto Blaise like they were drowning and he was the only thing keeping them afloat. Draco tuned in to whatever Barty was saying.

"It looks like we'll be having two male tributes from District 12 this year! Now to the next tribute!" Barty sang as he bounced across to the glass ball on the other side of the stage.

"The other male tribute is… Ah. Sorry, this slip has Draco Malfoy on it, let's try another! Oh! What a spot of bad luck! It's you again! How many times did you enter your name young man?" It was meant to be rhetorical, but he answered anyway.

"48 times." There seemed to be a bit of shock throughout the richer people in the crowd, and Barty himself looked quite amusing with his gaping mouth, greatly resembling a goldfish, especially with his bright colours. He turned quickly without replying and reached into the ball once more.

Draco's stomach dropped to his feet when he saw Barty glance at him out of the corner of his eye and bite his lip. Draco didn't want to know why he suddenly looked apologetic.

As Barty read out the next name, Draco's world shattered.

"Colin Malfoy."

No.

No, it couldn't be. Why? Why Colin? Draco was already standing on the stage. He couldn't volunteer again. Every District needed two tributes. Draco knew that the only person who would volunteer for Colin was Blaise, but he _couldn't;_ someone needed to stay behind and look after the remaining children.

Draco's knees nearly gave out when he saw little Colin- with his need for everything to be clean and neat, who sometimes had problems with his lungs when he got too excited about something, who had literally drooled once outside the cake displays in the bakery window- start to shuffle towards the stage. Draco's heart broke when he saw the same two tufts of hair from earlier on were starting to spike up again.

He looked around at the other boys in the crowd desperately. There had to be someone, _anyone,_ who would volunteer for him. Draco's breathing started to get heavier as everyone he looked at avoided his gaze. Colin was only a few steps from the stage. Draco's eyes started to water, strong appearances be dammed. Just as Colin raised his foot to climb the first step onto the stage, Draco's eyes caught emeralds. It seemed as if time stopped for a moment, as Draco pushed one word to the forefront of his mind, hoping above all hopes that the other would receive the message.

 _Please._

Harry's eyes widened for a moment and his brows furrowed minutely- Draco very nearly started to cry- before his face took on a determined expression and he nodded. Draco hiccupped as he held back a sob- of relief or sorrow he did not know- when Harry raised his arm and spoke.

"I volunteer. Harry Potter, age 16. I volunteer for the male tribute of District 12." Draco's knees really did give out this time, but Snape was suddenly there, a steadying hand on his shoulder and another gripping his elbow tightly, keeping him standing. Draco was immensely grateful for the other man, as he'd already humiliated himself enough for the moment.

He watched as Harry made his way through the astonished crowd, passing Draco's family and Blaise, who reached an arm out to pat his shoulder while the children briefly grabbed at his hands. Harry smiled down at them and continued to the stage, lightly smoothing down Colin's hair as he passed the shell-shocked boy onto the stage. Colin stumbled back down the aisle and was immediately pulled into the arms of his twin and Dennis.

The whole District took a moment to just stare at Harry for a moment. Whatever it was that just happened, Draco still wasn't too sure himself (he numbly recognised the symptoms of shock), everyone understands that this is a thing that has never happened before. Not in District 12. While Draco volunteering for Luna was rare, it was understandable; she was family. But Harry? He had no connection to them, except for that day in the alley, but the only people who knew about that were currently standing opposite each other on stage being instructed to shake hands.

Draco shakily pulled himself away from Snape and reached for Harry, who moved forward to grasp hands. Draco surprised everyone (including himself) by throwing his arms around Harry's neck and hugging him tightly, unable to stop whispering " _thank you"_ under his breath into the taller boy's chest. Harry squeezed tighter for a long moment, before pulling away and taking his hand gently. Draco composed himself once more to prepare for the rest of the ceremony.

The mayor stepped up to the podium to complete the Treaty of Treason and after a few more boring minutes, motioned for Barty to resume his position and finish the Reaping. Harry doesn't relinquish his comforting grip the entire time, softly rubbing small circles into Draco's thumb with his own. Draco's breathing started to regulate again as Barty (with suspiciously wet eyes) took his place and smiled at the crowd once more.

"Well! This year has definitely been eventful! Let's congratulate the two volunteers of District 12 for the 74th Hunger Games!" To the interminable credit of the District, not one person clapped, cheered, booed or jeered. Not even the nuisances from earlier, who had been betting that Draco would be in the Games. They stood in silence, showing the boldest refusal of the occurring events that they could manage. The message was loud and clear to any with eyes or ears, whatever was on hand at the time, Draco supposed. _No. We do not agree. This should not be happening. This is_ _wrong_.

Harry clutched his hand even tighter when the most surprising thing- or not, really- happened next. Draco hadn't thought that the District really cared about either of them any more than just food providers, but it seemed that their shows of sacrifice (especially Harry's) shifted something within their hearts, as one by one, the people began to display a very old and very rarely used funeral gesture (symbolising gratitude, admiration, and farewell to someone you hold dear to your heart) of touching the three middle fingers of one's left hands to their lips and raising them out. The tributes held strong with their heads held high, even if both could feel the shaking of their intertwined hands, waiting as the anthem of Hogwarts plays from the screens surrounding the square.

…

Draco sat with his head in his hands on the plush couch facing the door in the grand room he had been directed to by the Death Eaters whom escorted him into Hogsmeade building. Of all the people to come to the Games with him, it had to be _Harry_.

He was startled into standing up when the doors to his waiting room slam open, barely having to open his arms before four young children toppled him back into his seat. Draco clutched them close, Dennis pressed into his chest while Luna, Colin and Theo- a welcome addition- clung to his arms, practically one being by this point, all squeezed together on his lap. Blaise and Hazelle stood behind them.

The door was left open and he nearly questioned it when another figure took up position in the doorway, not stepping into the room, hovering outside, unsure. Draco's brows furrowed as he stared down Lucius, daring him to enter the room. For a second Draco relaxed as Lucius took a step back, but he was immediately on his guard again when he visibly gathered courage and stepped into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Blaise saw him tense and not-so-subtly stepped forward in front of Lucius without looking back at him. Draco nodded up at him and turned back to the distraught children he had vowed to protect his entire life. He squeezed them close once more before leaning back and starting to talk to them.

"Look, I know this isn't ideal for us, and I know you're really scared right now- which is completely okay- but everything is going to be alright, alright? Blaise is going to help look after you for a little while, and you can all take care of yourself with the apothecary and with Hedwig. It's going to be okay. Now, I need my strong, beautiful, courageous boys and girl to look me in the eye and promise me that you'll all look after each other while I'm gone. Can you do that for me?" The four nodded at him and Hazelle handed them all some tissues. He could see the three eldest share a glance and nod at each other, pulling themselves together and hardening their faces (which broke his heart more than anything else), and set his sights on the youngest of the four, still clinging to his shirt, sniffling softly, tremors racking his diminutive body. Draco tipped the tear stained face up to meet his and smiled softly at his little brother, cupping his little face with his palms and leaning in to press feather-light kisses to his eyelids. This brought another round of sobs from the boy, prompting Draco to cradle him close to his chest and gently rock back-and-forth, singing out a soft lullaby to calm him down. Dennis eventually stopped the tears and leaned back, hiccupping as he tried to speak through his clogged throat.

"Y-you have to p-promise too Dray… you have to promise that- that you'll co-come back. You h-have to win, and come back. O-okay? Promise?" Draco couldn't do much more than nod and whisper his assurances, trying not to cry again. That would not be the best look for him when he stepped out of the building to board the train. He'd already embarrassed himself enough for the day and he couldn't afford to look weaker than he already had shown today- unless… He could use that as a strategy, like that girl who won just a few years ago from District 7, Amelia Bones, who pretended to be weak and starving for the majority of the games before there was only a few tributes left and she went on a ruthless killing spree with her axe, which she had pried from the dead hands of another tribute. He decided not to think too much on it now, during what could be the last moments he had with his family.

Draco gently lifted Dennis from his lap and stood, turning to Blaise and walking into his open arms, wrapping his arms around his best friend's waist for a second, squeezing as tight as he dared, before taking a deep breath and stepping back. He could see Blaise struggling to make a funny comment- most likely about Draco's hug with Harry earlier- but Draco just cupped his jaw in the same way he did to Dennis and pressed a kiss to his cheek. They didn't need to say anything. Draco knew he could trust Blaise and his mother- whom also received a hug (this time she was the one to kiss his forehead) to look after the kids when he was gone. Of course, Draco would try his best to get back to them, but he wasn't under any delusions that he would definitely win. And then there was Harry…

Draco turned to the last occupant of the room before he could think too much along those lines. Lucius stood where Draco had last seen him, just inside the doorway. Draco made sure his stare was as dead and uninterested as he could muster when Lucius met his eyes. The feeble man opened his mouth and closed it, took a deep breath and tried again, his voice barely reaching the ears of anyone else in the room before it was interrupted.

"Son-"

"Time's up." The Death Eater that had abruptly opened the door was one neither Draco nor Blaise had met before so they weren't able to argue for more time, and before he knew it Hazelle was being pushed out the door with Blaise and Theo and the woman was making a reach for the twins when he scooped them into his arms again and pressed lingering kisses to their foreheads along with Dennis' when he was in reach. He stood tall as they were being escorted out and watched Lucius suspiciously when he made his way towards him a final time.

"Just listen to me for a moment Draco, please. I know you despise me, and I know what I did was unforgivable. I apologise for not being there for you and your siblings through the past years, but I vow to you that I will look after them for the rest of my life. I understand that I'm too late to save you and you don't want my help, but I will fix my mistakes. Trust me on this." Lucius actually had the audacity to look shocked when a bitter laugh tore its way from Draco's throat.

"Trust you? I don't think so. I don't care that you've suddenly had a change of heart and decided that we're suddenly worth your time now. _We don't need you._ You stay by the rules I laid down because you better believe I'm coming back. _Fuck_ the rest of your life. Those kids are _mine_ , and you can't have them back. Just _stay away_ from them. _When_ I come back, if I find that you've done anything, _anything at all,_ I. Will. Eviscerate. You. And feed you to the _goddamn_ cat." Draco ignored how Lucius' eyes had become red rimmed, pivoting swiftly on his heel and stalking back to the lavish couch he'd earlier abandoned.

After a tense few seconds, Lucius slinked from the room, his tail hanging low between his legs. He paused, just at the doorway and Draco was so mad at himself for getting affected by the last thing he said.

"No matter what… no matter how much you loathe me… I'll always be proud of you."

 **Hello! I hope you liked the chapter! Draco will get to The Ministry in the next chapter I promise… I hope…**

 **As always, I beg you to leave a review if you liked it (or didn't), or if you want to see anything special in the upcoming chapters!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

 **I'm back! This story is tearing my apart! I have three other stories to work on and a competition but this is the only one I want to do! How am I supposed to finish any of those when this one is drawing all my attention?! Oh well… on with the story!**

 **ALERT: I re-uploaded all of the chapters again, just fixing up some of the mistakes I saw throughout the chapters. Are any of you interested in being a beta? I desperately need one, especially now that I'm entering** _ **The**_ _ **Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**_ **and being on a proper team. Go Ballycastle Bats!**

 **I own nothing and there might be (who am I kidding) bad language.**

Draco's head fell further into his hands as the door closed once more. _Gods above_ this was terrible. He had no idea what he was going to do. He knew he'd probably have to play a weak and defenceless persona, but he'd never done anything like that before. He didn't know how to do it. Should he cry? He had definitely come across as emotional before so should he continue on that strand or should he pretend to be already broken? An empty shell? Draco sighed. He needed help but he wouldn't get any until he got on the train and that would be too late. He knew that there were countless cameras waiting at the train station, wanting to get some information about what sort of people the tributes are.

Draco startled when the door to his waiting room slammed open and a furious Hermione stormed inside. For a moment he panicked, thinking she was mad at him, but he then noticed the clenched fist of the Death Eater who was closing the door. Hermione turned back to glare at her one last time before stalking forward and collapsing on the couch next to Draco, sighing and rolling her head to face him. He couldn't help but feel amused.

"You're a moron, you know? A stupid, stupid, stupid, brave moron." Draco smiled and wrapped his arm around her as she leaned into him. He was really glad to have her, especially now. She was a really solid person, and a loyal friend. They hadn't gotten along when they first met, because of Draco's prejudiced opinions against all the people from that side of the District- an opinion tainted by Lucius' existence. Hermione had beat it out of him- literally- and they'd been friends ever since. Obviously not as close as he and Blaise were, but close enough that he didn't feel at all offended by her insults.

"Yes, yes, I know." She huffed a small laugh but allowed him to continue. "Will you, oh Great Granger, the Grandest of them all, please help me? I'm not sure what strategy to pull now. They've already seen me as emotional and- admittedly- rather weak, so should I continue that? And to what extent?" Hermione hummed and sat up straighter, turning her body to face him fully. He sat silently, allowing her to examine him, until she nodded slightly and spoke.

"Go all the way. You're the first volunteer from a poorer District for a while now, so some Ministry people are sure to love you anyway, and I think it'd be best for you to seem unimpressive and uninteresting to the other Districts, and then go full survival mode when the Games start. Now, I want you to know that I'm really, very sorry for how this has turned out. Not just you going into the Games, but going into them with _Harry_ of all people? Now, now; don't give me that look. Of course I knew about it. I'm not the smartest bitch in all of District 12 for nothing." Draco couldn't help but giggle lightly at the use of the name he'd given her a few years back. She really _was_ the smartest person he knew, however crude. He was about to take up on her advice and try to cry when she opened her mouth again.

"Draco… just- just don't die, okay? I know if it comes down to you and Harry you'll struggle, but please, _please_ don't give up. You have people back here that love you a lot, and unless you can find a way to bring both yourself _and_ Harry back at the end of this, I want to be seeing you coming off that train in a couple weeks' time, alright?" He didn't acknowledge the tears that naturally sprung up in his eyes for favour of hugging her tightly, feeling _slightly_ crushed by her death-grip, but comforted all the same. He nodded against her neck and then cried out as she pinched the underneath of his arm and twisted.

She laughed at him and began to batter his arms and chest with light punches until he leaped off the couch and threatened to skin her alive, only causing her to laugh even more. He sighed as he realised they only had a few moment left together. He started to accelerate his breathing, flushing his cheeks and pushing tears to his eyes. Hermione smiled sadly at him for a moment before standing and reaching into her pocket. He raised an eyebrow at her when she reached for his neck, but he didn't move until he felt the slight weight falling against his neck. He reached up and examined the amulet on the end of the thin chain Hermione had just draped around his neck. It looked to be copper, and it had four legs and wings? Draco vision was starting to cross and Hermione laughed at him, slapping him lightly on the head before explaining that it was an ancient mythical creature that she'd read about from some _completely legal_ books found in Knockturn, called a Hippogriff. She explained that it was supposed to protect him or something- being a noble creature that bowed down to only those who were worthy, but being completely vicious to all others. She joked about wanting to get him a little ferret shaped doll instead, but quietened down when they heard footsteps approaching the door again.

Draco didn't need to fake the tears that fell as they hugged for what might be the last time, the reality of the situation making his grief finally wash over him completely. Hermione scoffed and clapped him on the shoulder one last time before striding to the door and pulling it open before the Death Eater could, glaring daggers at her as she strode out of the building. The Death Eater motioned him forward and he nodded. It was time.

…

Draco was startled halfway through his struggle to the train when a muscular arm settled around his shoulders. He flinched away from it for a moment before it tightened, drawing him closer. He felt more than heard the whispered " _relax"_ against his ear, and while his face flushed a burning red from the fact that _Harry was whispering in his ear,_ his body relaxed, and he continued to let the tears flow. He didn't know if this was tactic or Harry just being Harry, but it benefitted the both of them in the end game. The Ministry would love this: 'The Two Volunteers from District 12, Enemies or Allies?' Or something similar. If he were a stupid Ministry pig he'd probably write something like that too. Draco decided that he'd have to ask Harry about an alliance when they were on the train as he twisted his hands into Harry's jacket and half burying his face into his arm, away from the cameras. Harry exhaled lowly, and Draco felt Harry turning to look at him slowly, but he refused to move his head until they reached the train. Draco looked up, and had his breath stolen. This was far, far more advanced machinery than he had ever seen before. _Hogwarts Express_ was printed onto the side of the bright red carriages, and from what Draco could see from outside the windows, the inside was just as flash.

Harry was doing a good job of deflecting any of the reporters that managed to get past the Death Eaters escorting them, but Draco was glad when the doors finally came into view- he didn't know if he could take much more crying and being surrounded by both many people and Harry's warmth. Harry had this unique smell about him, a mix of bread and sweat, and Draco was disgusted by himself for finding it so appealing. He pulled his head away from Harry before he could realise that Draco had been sniffing him.

Barty was waiting by the doors, his bright blue hair _just_ reaching over the heads of the reporters, but Draco was sure the only reason he could be seen was that the train was a little higher than the platform, as Draco found out when he nearly tripped over it- only Harry's arm had kept him steady.

They both let out sighs of relief when the doors closed behind them and the reporters started drifting from view before awkwardly realising that Harry was still holding onto Draco and didn't seem to want to let go. Draco refused to get hopeful about it, and refrained from moving himself, afraid that the slightest twitch might make Harry release him from the embrace. They jumped when Barty suddenly cleared his throat, having forgotten he was there. Draco hastily wiped at his eyes and Harry finally let go of Draco, if only to let his arm trail slowly down Draco's back on the way down. Draco was not ashamed to admit that he might've screamed ecstatically a little bit on the inside at that. Draco was confused by the slightly pitying look that Barty was giving him until he realised that he must look a mess.

"Oh! No, no I'm not actually crying! I'm fine, this is just tactic." Although both Barty and Harry shot him disbelieving looks when he said he was fine, they nodded and Harry seemed to sigh a little out of relief. Barty grinned at them again and gestured for them to follow him as he turned.

"Thinking of strategy already? You're a smart one then, aren't you? Oh and you're _very_ brave, Mr. Potter. That was quite a show you two put on! You're the first volunteers I've ever had! Oh but I very nearly cried when I read your dear brother's name out, love. Such a cute little family you have there." Draco's throat tightened but he forced an agreeing noise out when Harry's hand touched his shoulder briefly. Barty seemed to understand that Draco's family was a delicate topic and steered away from it immediately. He turned his attentions to Harry as they reached the end of the corridor they had been walking through, presumably to meet Snape.

"May I ask, why did you volunteer? You don't seem the arrogant type and you two don't seem to be related… best friends?" Draco was entranced by the light dusting of pink that occupied Harry's cheeks for a moment before he seemed to force it down and answer the question.

"No we're not friends. I've actually only had a few conversations with Draco before this," Draco couldn't help remembering that day five years ago where he sat in the rain, facing death head on, comparing it to the last conversation they'd had, which had left him with a dry mouth and shaking heart, "It was actually because… he just looked so helpless up there, and then he looked at me and- how could you say _no_ to someone so desperate? I mean, no offence-" Draco cut him off with a gentle hand on his arm and a soft smile.

"Thank you, Harry. It means a lot to me that you did that." Draco's smile grew as Harry's cheeks reddened again. That was the first time he'd actually said Harry's name to his face and Draco wasn't ashamed to admit that he had been flirting. It wasn't that he wanted to manipulate Harry or anything, he just liked that blush and now that he knew how to get it… well, Draco was probably going to be dying in a few weeks, so hell yeah he was going to flirt with the man he liked.

The train carriage they moved into was probably the most opulent room Draco had ever seen. Even the waiting room Draco had in Hogsmeade wasn't this ostentatious. The carpet was thick and deep green in colour, ending at the walls, whose lower halves were made up of beautifully polished mahogany panels that set off the smooth, green veined, white stone of the upper walls (how they got that on a train he would never know). A single chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling, appearing to be made entirely of silver, snake-like metal rods, which were curled around the lights they were holding intricately. Directly underneath the chandelier was a long mahogany table that was filled with all sorts of foods and occupied by one Severus Snape, already with a drink in hand. He looked up at them as they entered the room, his usual sneer firmly in place, but he refrained from saying anything until they had been seated, per Barty's instructions, and had started to eat. Draco was severely tempted to grab all he could and just stuff his face, but he knew that if he tried to do so, he would definitely be sick. He had halted Harry's hand as he reached for some meat, knowing it would be too rich for their stomachs, before ladling some innocent looking soup into their bowls and sipping at it. He was surprised when Harry followed his example instantly, sure that the other might ignore him for favour of the delicious smelling meals, but was pleased when he did.

"So, which one?" Draco was proud of himself for not jumping when Snape's slurred voice slithered across the table towards them. It was appalling that he was already drunk, but Draco couldn't blame him. He was however, confused by his question.

"Which one, what?" Sharing a glance with Harry and determining that he had no idea either, Draco had faced Snape and asked. Draco watched Barty tense from the corner of his eye and realised that whatever Snape was about to say was something that Barty had heard before, and didn't like.

"Which one of you is going to die first?" The carriage was filled with astonished silence for a moment before Harry let out a sharp, furious, " _what?"_ Snape only drunkenly smirked.

"Will it be you? The reckless hothead who apparently has absolutely no self-preservation skills? Or you, the tiny emotional wreck who can't even hold your own weight, let alone any type of weapon? You don't have a chance and you know it. In fact, in two weeks' time, _he_ could be the one crushing your head in with a rock." He laughed bitterly as he raised his glass to his mouth again, but Harry, whose usually calm and kind eyes seemed to be almost glowing with anger, suddenly struck out and knocked the glass to the floor, where it shattered. In a move that was definitely too fast for a drunk man, Snape suddenly turned and punched Harry straight in the jaw, sending his chair toppling back and crashing onto the floor. Draco stood and drove his mother's knife in the table a few millimetres from Snape's hand when he looked to be reaching for another glass, shocking Barty into jumping away from the table with a yelp. Snape, whose whole demeanour had changed in a matter of seconds from drunk to completely sober, leaned back in his chair and watched Draco retrieve his knife and move to help Harry off the floor, where he was inspecting his jaw for any damage worse than a bruise. When Draco collected some ice from the table to press on it, Snape halted his arm in an infuriatingly similar way to how Draco had stopped Harry's earlier.

"Let the bruise show. It'll give the impression that you've been fighting with the other tributes. It could even play into the tactic you two seem to have already developed. Tell me, was all that crying you were doing earlier fake?" He directed the last sentence to Draco who nodded stiffly, jaw still clenched in fury. He wouldn't put the ice on, but it would be a cold day in hell before he ignored someone's injuries or pain, especially someone he cared about. He dropped the ice back into the bucket, but still gently stroked Harry's jaw with the cold water still present on his hand and then held a similarly soaked cloth there until he realised how close he was and blushed, moving away quickly and turning back to Snape. His actions had calmed them both down immensely, reducing the tension that had saturated the cabin before that. Snape still wore a sneer but even he had lost some of that tension Draco recognised in people getting ready to fight their way out of a situation.

"You're quite fast for your size, Potter. And you, can you hit anything other than the table with that knife? By the way, you know you can't take that with you, right? It's against the rules and I can see you already have a token anyway." Draco huffed, but still looked around the room for something to throw his knife at. There was a shelf on the opposite wall that held some decorative crockery and glasses on it, with about a centimetre between each piece. Draco quickly aimed and threw his knife smoothly through the air, where it embedded itself in one of those gaps, between the two largest plates on display. Barty had gasped when the knife was thrown, fearing for his fancy plates, before breathing out a relieved sigh and bustling back over to his seat. Draco retrieved his knife again, before moving to sit next to Harry, who had moved to Draco's side of the table, unwilling to sit next to Snape any longer. It seemed he had left all conversation to Draco, and was instead focusing on dipping his bread into the soup, ladling some more for Draco while he was at it.

"Will you help us? Or are we on our own? You know we're survivors and could stay alive for a decent amount of time on our own, but you are our mentor and you are supposed to help us. Will you?" Snape leant forwards and inspected the pair for a minute before nodding to himself and reaching to pour himself some more alcohol. Draco had to put his hand on Harry's clenched fist to stop him from striking out again.

"Here's the deal. You let me drink however much I want, and you tell me everything about you that could help or hinder either of you- here or in private- and I'll do my best to keep you alive." The two nodded, knowing there was no alternative. Just as Harry opened his mouth to say something, Snape stood and turned from the table.

"The first thing we have to do is go and watch the other Reapings to get a gauge on your opponent's talents. Come along." Draco and Harry both had to take a moment to control their anger before they followed Barty out of the room. Draco had to stop himself from looking longingly back at the table- he had had all that food in front of him and barely eaten enough to fill up. He was startled when Harry suddenly came up beside him and pressed a bread roll into his palm, smiling softly at him. It seemed they both got lost in their memories at the same moment this time, as they froze and stared at each other over the bread for a moment before Draco suddenly remembered himself and looked away, cheeks burning furiously. He nodded quickly and hurried in front of Harry, definitely _not_ stumbling when he heard Harry's soft chuckle follow him.

There was a space between Barty and Snape where they had obviously intended for one of the tributes to sit in, but Draco just noped right out of that oncoming shitstorm and sat himself on the other side of Barty, feeling sorry for Harry for a few seconds before the other just grabbed a pillow and sat himself on the floor in front of Draco, leaning back against his legs. Draco blushed again at how familiar and… _intimate,_ for lack of a better word, the gesture was. Barty smiled slyly next to him, but Draco ignored him in favour of the screen.

They sat in relative silence while the other Reapings play, the occasional comment about the possible strengths and weaknesses of each tribute as they come onscreen. Draco attempted to remember all of the tributes- any of them could be deadly, hiding their skills behind personas like he had. From District 1 there was a gorgeous 17 year-old girl named Fleur, with her equally attractive partner, Cedric, whose smile made the entire crowd (and maybe also Barty and Draco, just a little bit) swoon. District 2 had two insanely buff tributes, Marcus and Bellatrix, who Draco hoped to never personally encounter. Rodger and Penelope from District 3 both looked extremely weak, but the intelligence in their eyes kept Draco's mind alert. District 4 had two extremely average looking tributes, Katie and Percy, who immediately struck Draco as some people to be wary of, if only because they were so easy to forget, even though they came from a District that was famous for their destructive Purebloods- the Districts who illegally trained their tributes before the Hunger Games and volunteered for the fame and glory that winning brought. The girl from District 5 was called Cho, and she had a cat-like face, and intelligent eyes, the direct opposite from her District partner, Crabbe, a lumbering brute who couldn't tell his face from his ass. An elegant deadliness was brought from Andromeda of District 6, while Fenrir, with his sharp teeth and wild hair, looked more like Mutt than a fellow tribute. District 7 brought a crying girl named Lavender and a sour faced boy named Justin. If they thought Lavender cried a lot, she was nothing compared to Myrtle from District 8, who was paired with a seedy looking, short teen unfortunately named Mundungus. District 9 brought two unfortunate looking tributes, Gregory and Pansy, but Draco knew the mad look in Pansy's eyes wasn't to be ignored. District 10 had a confusingly cheerful girl named Nymphadora- who preferred 'Tonks' apparently, and Rufus- a rat faced manipulator. Viktor from District 11 was _huge._ He had an amazing amount of muscles, especially coming from the second poorest District, but the worst was the tiny bird-like twelve-year-old named Ginevra, with her flaming red her and constellations of freckles. She looked nothing like his Luna, but the scene was painfully familiar, especially when the camera zoomed in on the distraught family behind her. Apparently Harry thought so too, for in the next second his hand had reached up over his shoulder to hold Draco's, his thumb continuing to rub familiar comforting circles along Draco's own hand. Then one of the worst moments of his life was displayed before him again, but this time on a screen for all the other Districts to see.

Luna, being called up to the stage, a brave, but fragile looking determination shining in her eyes while Colin screams desperately behind her, Death Eaters holding him firmly away from her before Draco's own voice is heard as he bursts into the walkway, thrusting himself in front of them with a wild look in his eyes while Blaise separates the Death Eaters from Colin and hugs the children gently as Draco volunteers and goes up on stage. There is Barty, incredulous at the sheer number of times Draco had put his name in, and then the tragic and absolutely heart-breaking scene that followed Collin's name being read out. Draco absently notices Barty sniffling from where he's seated, and Harry is gripping his hand tightly now, probably subconsciously, as Colin approaches the stage and the camera focuses its attention on Draco's devastated face as he trembles, and searches through the crowd for anyone to help him. The camera stays on Draco long enough for him to feel embarrassed at it now –the look of absolute desperation and devastation that makes him look rather ugly, especially after Harry's voice rings through the crowd and the camera hovers for just long enough to see the tears well up and his knees give out. The commentators were having the times of their lives, going on about a possible secret relationship between the two (which Draco stubbornly ignored), practically _squealing_ like little girls over the emotional hug they'd shared onstage and the _completely unnecessary_ zoom in on their intertwined hands. They then jumped to Harry's protective actions on the train station, something that they hadn't done for any of the other Districts.

Both of the boys were completely exhausted so after a short debate over the advantages of pushing this protector image to further them in the Games, they were led to their separate rooms and fell asleep almost instantly, but not before they finally allowed the furious blushes to streak across their faces. Harry was slapping his hands against his cheeks lightly (wincing because he had forgotten about his bruise –which led him to blush even more after remembering the gentle way that Draco had stroked his face, with that _adorable_ look of concentration) after realising that _he had been so obvious,_ while, only a few metres away, Draco was nearly tearing his hair out- _what if he finds out?_

Needless to say, neither of them could get the other off their minds, which happened to be the best thing for them, as love was a much more preferable topic to have their minds obsess over -rather than the possibility that they could be barrelling towards their death at the speed of a bullet.

 **Sorry that this has taken so long guys! I hoped you liked this chapter, and don't forget that I edited the previous chapters to make them flow better! As always, please send me a message if you liked anything or want to have something added in in an upcoming chapter!**


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